


Untethered

by Raynidreams



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hair Brushing, Post-Episode: s07e07 The Dragon and the Wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 07:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11984721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raynidreams/pseuds/Raynidreams
Summary: Tag-on to Dany/Jon's boat scene, season 7 finale. A cute bit of light hair play and conversation.





	Untethered

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if this or something similar has already been done. I just wanted to muss their hair up.

Daenerys' lips stretched into a lazy smile. "What are you doing?"

"Unpicking your hair."

"And may I ask _why_ you're unpicking my hair?"

She waited, sight broadly focused on the cabin's window. The light from outside was tinged pink with the coming dawn. Positioned behind her, Jon's hands continued to unravel the braids and coils at the back of her head.

When he was quiet, "Jon?" she prompted, and then waited further for him to reply. His fingers had got most of the lower ties out and he was now running them through the kinks in the fall. That teased out, he started on the braids he could access by her one temple. As he did, he kneaded her scalp, working backwards on that side of her skull, firmly going from her forehead, down to the base of her neck. She arched into his hand.

Daenerys was a small woman and countless men had threatened her. A number of men had physically hurt her. Jon wasn't a big man, but he was strong. He had the same potential to abuse her. She bit back a moan as he used that strength to ease the stress and pain from her body over employing it to cause more harm.

Somnolent heading into aroused, Dany lifted her head slightly so that he could liberate the hair trapped underneath.

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to fix my hair like this?” she asked, affecting a lofty tone.

“An idea,” he replied, voice sounding thick. “I imagine about as long as it takes me to put on my armour, your Grace.”

She chuckled. “So, why then? Hm?” In daylight, she might note how her voice purred. How soft she felt as his fingers worked their charm on her body.

She motioned her face down to the bed, away from the window, choosing to ignore how the sky was more pink now than contused. Jon untwisted the last braid, then brushed her hair out over her shoulders and spine. He respired heavily as he did. He took air in, holding it as if scared to breathe out, then released. She felt it sweep the sensitive skin of her nape. Tingles hailed from there, spreading throughout her body, to pool in her lower belly with uncurling warmth.

With a gentle hand to her shoulder, he coaxed her around towards him. On her back, Daenerys gazed up at him. Despite all he'd told her he had been through, his eyes still remained sensitive and unguarded; she couldn't recall ever seeing a man so expressive. His face was a book of micro-gestures that left little room for deceit. From his face, her eyes strayed downwards to the deep scarring over his heart, then back up.

His forehead crinkled a little in response but he didn't say anything. Instead, he delicately smoothed a strand of hair off her brow and kissed the tip of her nose.

It had been that gentleness and trust that had attracted her, she concluded. She'd wanted to share in it and to protect it.

Unable to help herself from returning his touch, she eased a fingertip down the scar over his eye, one so reminiscent of her first husband's... Her hand stilled. Jon and Drogo couldn't have been further removed. As Drogo's violence had fed her own – she'd needed it to survive, they both had – perhaps Jon's compassion would encourage her to truly live?

It was an emboldening thought.

She dropped her hand back and lay pliant, permitting him to carry on playing with the silver strands. He arranged them over her shoulders, between her breasts, tracing them with increasingly heated touches. When he was done, he knelt back to regard her.

She lifted one freed section and arched an eyebrow. "You never answered my question?"

He grinned a reply. "Because, your Grace,” he paused to pull the tie from his own hair, letting the dark curls fall around his even darker eyes; ones now dancing with almost ungodly pleasure. "I want to see you come undone."

Daenerys teased her one nipple with the lock she held and then wildly ran her hands into his hair as he descended to meet her, flesh to flesh.

 


End file.
